Ah, the blogosphere, where hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of writers, some of them qualified, scribble their observations, opinions and information, some of it phony, daily.
I've been poking around this virtual neighborhood for some time, confining my gazing to those of literary interest or "lit-blogs." And since there are so many of them, a glance or two is all the time I can devote to reading them.
...WTF?
Unlike the established media, there are doubts about blogs' accountability, dependability and durability.
Also, outside of their mothers, it's hard to figure out whom these bloggers are targeting.
...WTF?
My blog, however, would be run through the Post-Gazette editing grinder intended to force out rumor, mistakes, innuendo, obscenity, gossip and speculation -- the very stuff that blogs are made of -- and keep the truth and correct grammar.
...seriously plutonium-grade WTF? When did Dick Feagler start writing for a Pittsburgh paper?
(Via Conversational Reading.)
1 comment:
My good Mr. Dixon,
I cannot comment on Hoover's resemblence to a feminine hygiene device, but I would be totally comfortable asserting that his erections are the same consistency as a bowl of Edy's French Silk that languishes forgotten on the counter while the lady of the house sits captivated before a Seinfeld rerun.
With undying devotion from Broadview Heights,
Erin
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